at her house in less than ten minutes.
I’ve already made up my mind.
Have you really?
“He told me it was the job. He may not have wanted to hurt my feelings.”
Molly thought about that, and was shaking her head almost immediately. “No,” she told him with conviction. “I don’t believe it. His anger is too personal. Too aimed at you. Although the divorce might tie in somehow. Maybe he’s mad because you didn’t stay married to his mom. He could blame you for the, er, succession of stepfathers that presumably meant moving, new schools, et cetera, et cetera.”
Richard seemed to consider that. “Maybe. He had to be upset that he wouldn’t be able to finish out high school in the same place, with the same friends, same teammates.”
“I’m surprised his coach didn’t throw himself on a sword.”
“God.” There was that low chuckle again, husky enough to feel like calloused fingertips. “I hadn’t thought about it. Maybe he did. I don’t follow the L.A. news.”
“Was Trevor mad at his mom after her last divorce?”
Richard frowned. “Not mad. Confused, maybe. He was…let me think. Eleven, maybe? Not heartbroken, I know that. I think Bree might have been fonder of Scott.”
“Do you know why her last two marriages broke up?” So not my business, Molly realized belatedly. English teacher—belated could be another word for too late.
Richard’s glance struck her as cautious. “No,” he said after a minute. “After Scott, she said she wasn’t in love with him anymore.”
She could hear the but. He knew more. Suspected more. Really not her business.
Isn’t it, when I’m thinking about sleeping with him?
The English teacher pointed out how imprecise she was being. She was definitely not planning on doing any “sleeping” with Richard Ward. Well, unless he spent the entire night.
She must have made a sound, because his head turned. She discovered he’d pulled up to the curb in front of her house.
“Alexa got bored easily,” he said, and Molly realized he’d assumed she was upset—piqued? angry? something?—because he’d quit talking.
“You don’t have to tell me.”
“No, it’s okay. Alexa needs to be in love.” He shook his head. His hands were still on the steering wheel, but not squeezing the way they did when he felt something powerful. Loose, relaxed. “Actually, that’s not it. What she needs is to have a man passionately in love with her. If her husband gets too focused on work, family, whatever, she’s lost. She pouts, she teases, she tries to get him under her thumb again, then failing all else she finds someone else who fills the bill.”
Molly felt an unhappy cramping in her chest. “That’s what she did with you.”
“Yeah.” He was watching her now, his eyes shadowed but his mouth quirked on one side. “It was tiresome. I was trying to build the business to take care of her and the kids. Dad hadn’t retired yet. I had to be sure he wouldn’t erase any gains I’d made if I got sent to Iraq. I was signing contracts, working my butt off, hiring, supervising and firing until I was sure we had some solid employees, coaching Trev’s Little League team.” He shook his head. “And the truth is…”
“You weren’t in love with her anymore.”
He never took his eyes off her. “I’m not sure I ever was, except in a high school kind of way. But I’m a man who takes his commitments seriously.”
“His responsibilities,” she whispered, remembering his reaction when she’d suggested he didn’t.
“Yeah. I never looked at another woman. Wouldn’t have. I was building a life for my family. That wasn’t enough for Lexa.” He sounded impatient, shook his head. “The point is, she’s never in it for the long haul, at least until she finds a guy who will worship and adore her above all else, until they both shall die.”
“You don’t think that’s possible?”
“Yeah.” Even in the diffused lighting, she saw his jaw spasm. His voice was rough. “I do.”
She was melting down. Utterly. Completely.
“To hell with Alexa,” he murmured. “Molly, are you going to invite me in?”
There wasn’t any decision at all.
“Yes.” She tried to smile, felt her lips wobble. “Please, Richard.”
“I thought you’d never ask.” His hand slid beneath her hair, and he kissed her.
* * *
HE COULD HAVE MADE LOVE to her in the pickup, no problem. He wanted to. He hadn’t been so horny since he was sixteen. Damn, but he hated letting go of Molly long enough for them both to get out.
Richard had the presence of mind to hit the button